It’s doubtful whether the man who once had nothing but his balls and his word really knows happiness at this point, considering his mother disowns him, his sister flees his overprotection, his girlfriend refuses to become pregnant and he’s fucked over enough people to fear for his life as long as it lasts. His passions turn into obsessions, his will to win becomes self-destructive. Dre’s claim that he “bought a house big as Scarface to show my happiness” (as stated in 1997’s “Firm Family”), the big house Tony Montana entrenches himself in is the drug lord’s stage where his steady downfall and sudden defeat take place. The initial disappointment that this is not – as one may be led to believe – a Scarface solo album but a compilation aside, in regards to Face and his state of mind “My Homies” felt like a return back to Earth (or the hood, if you will) after the royal retreat of “The Untouchable,” whose It’s-lonely-at-the-top aura was in some ways spookier than “Life After Death” and “The Don Killuminati (The 7 Day Theory)” combined. Still, here are the reasons I defend “My Homies” to this day, all of it, both CD’s, the entire 137 minutes. Although I have to admit that this was partly due to the 60-minute tape I shortened it to. But in early 1998 “My Homies” was a revelation nevertheless, causing me to keep it in constant rotation.
I hold the precursor to this year’s “My Homies Part 2” in high regard, even though there’s never been a moment where I thought it lived up to my (admittedly high) expectations.
Scarface’s “My Homies” is such an album for me. Sometimes average or even below average albums can hold a disproportionately prominent position in one’s listening log.
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